Orange
by Sir Cameron Dragic
Summary: AU. This is the story of Jeremiah Gottwald, faithful servant of the Holy Britannian Empire and Princess Lelouch vi Britannia. He is a lost man, broken and without purpose, but when he finds a new meaning in life, he will do whatever it takes to preserve it and to protect her as she careens forward towards her destiny of greatness, invariably intertwined with his own fate.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Do you see this? Do you understand what this is? This is what happens when you go back on your promises." A lurid blue haired man asked as he grabbed his sobbing wife by the back of her head and held her face up for the world to see. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and makeup streamed down her face, giving the woman an almost monstrous appearance.

Fearfully, a young blue haired boy dressed in the robes befitting a noble known as Jeremiah Gottwald nodded slowly, taking in the sight in front of him. His mother, with her dress halfway torn to shreds, was being forcefully beaten by the vicious and unrelenting man in front of him, his father, Lord Gottwald.

"Do you regret it? Huh?" Lord Gottwald screamed in the woman's ear, causing her to wince in a combination of pain and fear. Jeremiah could see from his vantage point that her hands were shaking violently as whimpers of pain rocked her body viciously, almost like she was in the middle of an earthquake, caused by the monster standing above her.

Unconsciously, Jeremiah took a tentative step forward, and immediately, he was rebuked by his father.

"Step back!" He screamed, and immediately, Jeremiah stopped in his tracks. With a pleading look in his eyes, he stared at Lord Gottwald, hoping to find some sort of pity in the man's eyes, but he found nothing but anger, instantly sending him stepping backwards in a natural reaction. With a hint of resignation, Jeremiah nodded, and took yet another step backwards.

After all, he was nothing else if not a well bred and well taught aristocrat, who did as he told.

Soft music played in the background, punctuating the silence of the room besides the sobbing of Lady Gottwald. The sounds of a violin wafted in, being played with what Jeremiah always imagined to be long elegant strokes that coaxed forward a euphony of sound from an ordinary piece of paper that was inscribed with some scribbles of notes, perfectly complimenting the bassoon, which lay almost unnoticeable in the background of the music, which had expanded to encompass drums and various woodwinds. He knew the score well.

It was the Rite of Spring, by Igor Stravinsky, a relatively famous composer from the European Union. Britannia wasn't on great terms with the federation of countries politically, but that didn't mean that they couldn't enjoy some European music from time to time.

With each strike, Jeremiah could see the man he knew as his father change into something new. He was no longer the calm and collected aristocrat that was the patriarch of a powerful Britannian noble family. Instead, he was something more feral, a ferocious monster that was a whirlwind of rage and fury.

Gone was the warm and loving smile that usually graced the man's lips, replaced by a snarl and gritted teeth that seemed sharp enough to bite through the delicate skin of the woman who had cared for Jeremiah all his life. She seemed so fragile in that moment, like a little porcelain doll that was currently being torn apart, bit by bit.

Gone were the vibrant orange eyes that he had inherited from his mother, usually filled with excitement of happiness. They were the same orange, but conveyed something different altogether. There was no joy or hope, only fear and pain in those dull orange irises.

The music built in the background of all this, with the various instruments increasing their pace, playing at a faster and faster speed until it became almost frenetic. The strings began taking shorter and shorter strokes, and the drums banged wildly, until it reached a fever pitch and climaxed in a glorious, yet discordant note, cutting off immediately afterwards.

Desperately, Jeremiah reached out a hand to help, but stopped short as an exceptionally loud smack rang through the air, sending his mother reeling to the ground, hitting the ground with an audible thud. With the music finished, the sound of it was only amplified for the young boy, who watched helplessly, and in horror.

For a moment, it was silent as the woman lay on the ground completely still. Seemingly satiated for the moment, Lord Gottwald left the room wordlessly, slamming the expensive mahogany door shut behind him, rattling the large chandelier that hung over their drawing room, which was the very picture of an ideal Britannian noble home, although the serenity that normally hung over the room was shattered by the crumpled figure in the middle of the room.

"Mother!" Jeremiah shouted, kneeling beside the woman, chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her neck was red and swollen, and her face was streaked with a combination of blood, sweat, tears, and the latest Britannian mascara, all mixed together in a dull red combination that sent chills down Jeremiah's spine as he stared at it.

"I'm fine." She whispered back, waving him off and plastering a fake smile on her face. Despite the pain, she had to keep smiling. She couldn't show any sign of pain, no matter how much it hurt. Even if she couldn't save herself from her husband, she had to protect Jeremiah for as long as she could, at least until he could get out of this house.

Though still unnerved, Jeremiah nodded, accepting the response for now. After all, his mother had never lied to him before. She had always done what was best for him, and she was merely doing more of the same now, though for what reason, he couldn't understand.

"Just listen to what your father says. Don't ever forget your loyalty to someone, all right? That way, you can be the chivalrous knight you've always hoped to be." She managed weakly before she closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to alleviate the pain.

"I understand." Jeremiah said softly, getting off of his knees and standing up straight. He didn't exactly understand why his mother had said those words to him, but he wouldn't waste her advice. He would stand strong, and his loyalty would follow in stride. It would have to.

After all, he was nothing else if not a well bred and well taught aristocrat, who did as he told.

* * *

Sir Calares looked out among the classroom of cadets of the Imperial Colchester Institute to find that absolutely no one save for a few select was listening to his lecture on the workings of Knightmare Frames. Honestly, they were the future of warfare, and not one of these students actually cared about how they actually worked, only really paying attention when it came to learning how to actually pilot one. This was why he hated teaching. If he ever got the chance, he swore that he was going into politics.

Trying to reassure himself that his job wasn't a total waste of time ,he looked for one of the more reliable students he had, "Gottwald, stand up and explain how the Yggdrasil Drive works."

"Yes sir." Jeremiah replied without hesitation, standing up out of his seat. He knew that he was called on almost every time by the teacher, but he never once disobeyed Sir Calares' order.

After all, he was nothing else if not a well bred and well taught aristocrat, who did as he told.

"Sakuradite flows into the Core Luminous as electrical currents that are conducted by liquid inside of the core. The liquid then begins to turn the motor, converting mechanical energy into electrical energy, which is used to power the Knightmare Frame." He explained perfectly, without any detail left out.

"Good. Nice to know someone is paying attention in class." Sir Calares said pointedly, making the implication clear to the rest of the class.

From her seat beside him, Villetta Nu watched Jeremiah Gottwald with awe. Being a commoner, she already had a deep admiration and envy for most nobles, but something about Jeremiah was different from most aristocrats in their class. Whereas someone like Kewell usually made a show of his background, she had never heard Jeremiah say even one word about his family, much less anything of his wealth, which she imagined to be quite impressive.

Instead, he kept his head down and worked harder than anyone else in their class, aside from her, of course. She was going to become a knight for the sake of her family, so that they could live the life of nobles as well, and she worked hard enough to be qualified as one of the top students of the Institute, eventually skipping two grades and shooting straight to the top of the class, second only to Jeremiah and another girl in their class, Cecile Croomy, who was a genius in her own right, having skipped several grades herself as well.

"Jeremiah, that was amazing." She whispered to him, but she received no reply as he looked at the board with a blank look on his face before he returned to his paper, scribbling down notes.

Jeremiah had heard her, but obviously, he couldn't reply. Not when there was a lesson to be learned. He had promised his mother that he would become a knight and loyally serve the Empire, and that was exactly what he was going to do. He had understood, after some time, what his father always meant. It had been about his marriage to his mother, but Jeremiah found that it was a valuable lesson regardless.

He had to be loyal, and do what he was told. If he didn't his mother would never live in peace, and that was unthinkable for the woman who had raised him practically on her own, given that his father was out of the house on business most of the year. She always told him stories about how his father was once a shining knight of the Empire, and not the abusive husband he now was. And he would always promise that he would do much of the same and become a knight in his own right. One that would make her proud and do as he was told, like any good solder should.

After all, when he didn't follow orders, bad things happened. That, he had learned long ago.

And so, he was going to study, and do as he was told. And hopefully, that meant that instead, good things would happen. He wasn't exactly sure what the tangible effects were going to be, but he knew that something good would have to happen as a result of his actions, it just had to. He had structured his entire life around that belief, after all. Everything he had done, it was to ensure that he would better the Empire through his loyal service one day.

He would be a knight. One that stood for justice, loyalty, and strength. And he would bring back a smile to his mother's face. He would make her proud, and see those dull orange eyes light up once more with a vibrancy and life that he had not seen in far too many years. But all that would have to come until he was out of this Academy. And so, he would have to press on in his studies, until the day would finally come for him to fulfill his promises.

* * *

"Gottwald, did you check the corridors yet?"

"Yes Ma'am. They're clear, and I've taken the liberty of posting extra sentries for the time being." Jeremiah replied quickly to his superior, Princess Cornelia, the head of security for the Aries Villa, also known as the home of Empress Marianne and the Princesses Lelouch and Nunally vi Britannia.

"Good work then. I knew I could rely on you." Cornelia said gratefully, nodding to him before she walked off to perform duties of her own.

Jeremiah couldn't help but to beam at the praise heaped upon him by a member of the Royal Family. This was what he always wanted after all, to be a guard at the Aries Villa. He had graduated at the top of his class, and had turned down offers to join the military as an officer, all for the sake of becoming a guard to a Royal Figure. It was an honor beyond description for him, and he wore the gray uniform with a red sash and carried his ceremonial rifle with distinction.

His mother had been so proud of him when he returned home to tell his family the news of his post. He had seen, for the briefest of seconds, joy flash into his mother's eyes, and his father had even been able to crack a smile. It made every agonizing hour of studying and training, the endless all nighters and all of the hard work worth it.

"You heard what she said! Get to work and secure all of the hallways before the Empress gets here!" Jeremiah yelled, causing several of his fellow guards to roll their eyes in annoyance.

"Gee Jeremiah, you could lighten up once in a while. It's not like we're ever going to get attacked here." One of the guards mumbled as he shuffled off to do his duty.

Jeremiah flinched as he heard the insult, but did not waver from his orders. They could insult him and grumble about him all they wanted, but he was going to see his job through to the end. If that made him a prick, or a hard ass, then so be it. He was doing his duty, as a knight of Britannia.

"All right, the Empress is coming through! Clear the way!" Cornelia barked, causing several guards standing off to the side to stiffen their backs and stand at attention as their charge glided by with an ethereal manner to her gait.

For his part, Jeremiah did not step out of the way, but instead, opted to stand at attention, a hand up in a salute while his other arm cradled his rifle, balancing the heavy weapon on his shoulder.

"Empress." He greeted stiffly, standing with perfect posture that had been drilled into him at the Institute.

"Ah, Jeremiah. How has your day been so far?" Marianne replied cheerfully, just exuding poise and confidence.

Marianne vi Britannia was the Empress of the Holy Britannian Empire, and amongst all of the figures of the Royal Family, she was the one that Jeremiah admired the most. She was an exceptional pilot, being a member of the Knights of the Round, and she had almost single handedly brought Emperor Charles to the throne through her piloting skills alone. All of which was public knowledge, which only made guarding her even more of an honor for Jeremiah.

Truth be told, he idolized her. She represented everything he hoped to be one day: a faithful servant of the Empire who only brought success and prosperity through her actions. Most of all, she was the ultimate example of loyalty, having risked her life in the service of her husband and empire. Yes, she was everything he had ever wished to become in his dreams.

"Excuse me Empress, but shouldn't we get moving first? Your party will be starting soon, and if we do not hurry, we will be late." Jeremiah said, not wanting to bog down the woman with the meager details of his life.

"Very well Jeremiah, you can tell me all about it on the way there." Marianne said with a wink, and Jeremiah bowed in response.

"As you wish." He said before lifting his head back up and turning around so that he could lead the way for her.

"All right then. Lelouch, Nunally, come along now." Marianne said, gesturing for her children to follow along.

Lelouch was a beautiful eighteen year old woman with long black hair that reached the small of her back and hypnotic violet eyes that seemed to hold countless secrets, at least to Jeremiah. She was every part the ideal Britannian princess, with gentle features that were not dissimilar to her mother, who was quite beautiful in her own right, and a powerful personality that made it clear that she was not one to be played with.

On the other hand, Nunally was a fifteen year old girl with light brown hair, with more childish features that made her a less imposing figure. Instead of having her sister's force of personality, she was more soft spoken and innocent, not at all cut out for the cutthroat world of Britannian politics. More likely than not, she was going to just be one of the many princesses who were put through an arranged marriage to gain favor with one noble or the other, unlike her sister, who was in the thick of the competition for the throne.

The two walked in behind their mother, each dressed in beautiful dresses made from what Jeremiah knew was the finest silk that the Chinese Federation had to offer. Each of the three was dressed in a different color. Marianne had a bright orange dress that seemed to accentuate her figure perfectly, although Jeremiah quickly steered his thoughts in another direction.

Nunally was in a beautiful pink dress that seemed to only reinforce the notion that she was the most innocent member of the Royal Family, with a conservative neck line that kept most of her pale skin shielded from the sun. And finally, Lelouch was dressed in a provocative white dress that hugged her developed figure far more tightly than either her mother or her sister's dresses did, accentuating all of her…assets and making Jeremiah quickly suck in a breath of air as he saw her.

"Ahem. Let me lead the way then." Jeremiah coughed, averting his eyes from Lelouch as best as he could.

"Please do, Sir Gottwald." Marianne said gratefully, following behind him as he walked down the hallway that led to the grand staircase, where a large gathering of nobles was already in procession.

"Wait, please take Lelouch and Nunally down with you first. I actually have a few matters to attend to for the time being." Marianne said, just as Jeremiah took his first step.

"I understand." Jeremiah said, bowing quickly before he proceeded on, carrying out his duty.

After all, he was nothing else if not a well bred and well taught guard, who did as he told.

He shepherded the two Princesses down the stairs, where they were greeted by polite applause, and into the crowd of nobles that quickly crowded around the two girls, seemingly overwhelming Nunally, and giving Lelouch the attention that she craved.

Jeremiah, as were his orders, kept an eye on both of them from a small radius, not close enough to interfere in conversation, but still within range to protect each of them, if it was necessary.

"And introducing, the Empress of the Holy Britannian Empire! Marianne vi Britannia!"

The scattered polite applause from before increased in volume as the woman was introduced, far outclassing what Lelouch and Nunally had received, evidencing Marianne's popularity.

She began stepping down the stairs gingerly, taking her time with each step and soaking up the applause that she received along the way.

With an approving nod, Jeremiah looked over the staircase, when it suddenly hit him. The guards that would have been normally posted at the foot of the stairs, as well as the head, were all missing, leaving Marianne completely unprotected.

She was an open target.

With lightning speed, Jeremiah shoved Lelouch to the floor, screaming, "Get down!"

As he did so, he began shoving his way through the crowd, who had all eyes on him in light of the commotion he was causing. He quickly made his way to the front of the crowd, finally having caught the attention of Marianne.

"Jeremiah? What are you doing?" Marianne asked with a confused look on her face as she saw him suddenly run up the stairs, hell bent on reaching her.

In slow motion, Jeremiah saw it all unfold before him. From behind him, he could hear the unmistakable chatter of machine gun fire, and he reached out a hand to push her down in desperation.

However, he was too late.

Before his eyes, he saw Marianne's eyes widen in surprise as bullets tore through her dress, and blood leaked out of the wounds, which were appearing all over her body.

And then, in an instant, it was all over. The gunfire stopped, and time resumed as Marianne collapsed forward into a shocked Jeremiah's arms in a lifeless and bloody heap.

Helplessly, Jeremiah cradled the dying woman in his arms, not caring about the blood seeping into his uniform. He looked down at her with desperate eyes, helpless to do anything but to comfort the woman.

"Someone, get a medic!" He screamed, but no one dared to move, too shocked to do anything but to watch.

"Please, someone!" He screamed again in desperation, again receiving no response. He looked down at Marianne, and couldn't stop tears from streaming down his face as he tried his best to hold her close as she took deep ragged breaths, clearly having had her lungs punctured by the tortured way that she sucked in air.

"Jeremiah, Lelouch…protect…" Marianne managed before her eyes went blank and her body fell limp in his arms. Gently, he lay her onto the stairs, doing his best to preserve her beauty, trying to fool himself into thinking that she was just taking a nap.

After all, there was no way that she could really be dead, right? She was Empress Marianne vi Britannia, Marianne the Flash! There was no way that she could have been gunned down right before his eyes. However, as he gazed deeply into her eyes, completely devoid of life and any sort of emotion, the realization hit him. She was dead, and she was never coming back.

Jeremiah stared at his hands, soaked in the blood of the Empress. How could this be? He had followed orders, hadn't he? And still, she had died in his arms. Everything he had ever known had been shattered before him.

What was he to do? He had lived his whole life in a way so as to follow the path of justice and loyalty, and it cost him the Empress. Had it all been wrong? Had it all been a delusion of his, some fantasy to cope with the realities that he never wanted to face? If so, did that mean that his life had been a mistake, that he had wasted it all?

"Jeremiah!" He heard a voice call out and he looked up to see Lelouch standing above him, dress torn in various places, undoubtedly due to the fact that he had pushed her down as soon as he heard the gunshots.

An expression of shock was plastered all over her face as she looked down at the corpse of her mother. Of course she had to be surprised. Her mother, so lively and energetic just a few moments ago, was now lying dead before her eyes. He would be shocked in her position too.

However, despite all that, she remained surprisingly calm, given her current position. But, he supposed that, from a young age, she had been trained not to show weakness at any moment, even at one such as this.

For a moment, Jeremiah stared at Lelouch as he felt his world fall apart. The sun was right behind her, giving the illusion that she was some kind of angel, bathed in bright light and clean white clothes, a gentle expression on her face as she tried to stay calm in spite of herself.

And suddenly, he saw it. His new purpose in life. He had no choice now. He would have to continue on, for Empress Marianne's sake, and protect Princess Lelouch, as she ordered him to. Maybe his life wouldn't be a waste if he could at least accomplish that much. And so, he would follow her dying order.

After all, he was nothing else if not a well bred and well taught guard, who did as he told.

"I understand." He whispered to no one in particular as he gently grasped Lelouch's hand to silently comfort her, smearing it with blood as well, and got off his knees, standing up to face his new purpose. It seemed strange and unfamiliar, but there was something strangely comforting about knowing what he was destined to do. And so, he took the first step towards his new future. His new life.

* * *

**To anyone who read Sliding Doors, I have officially put that story on hiatus because of my writer's block concerning that story. Honestly, it just got too far out of hand, with several storylines and perspectives that each needed an equal time to be devoted to each one. It just got to be too much. So, in exchange, I've started this story, with Jeremiah as the main character and the only perspective from which this story will be told, if I get support to continue it. If this story continues, I plan to focus just as much on the politics of Britannia as I did in Sliding Doors, but overall, I just think that the story will flow better and I'll be able to write more with a story in this style.**

**And also, I just love a female Lelouch, don't ask me why. It's just that stories with male Lelouch have been done to death, and I want to do something different.**

**Like I've said this entire author's note, I might not continue this story if there isn't really any support, so please, leave any thoughts and ideas in a review or PM. I would really appreciate any and all feedback!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to anyone who reviewed, favorited or followed this story! It means a lot to know that you guys are interested in this story, and I humbly implore you all to keep it up. And now, the continuation of Orange.**

* * *

Chapter 2

It was raining the day that Empress Marianne was laid to rest. How apt. Jeremiah thought dryly as he marched along, water sloshing around in his muddy boots, behind a small gathering of morose figures. He tightly clutched a handful of drooping flowers that were now completely saturated with rainwater in his hands, and hung his head low, following the example those in front of him.

The funeral was small for a figure of her stature, only encompassing those who knew the Empress personally and a few members of the Royal Family, a surprise considering that the deaths of an Imperial figure would normally be cause for a day of mourning. For whatever reason ,either out of reverence or of indifference, aside from a public announcement, not much attention was placed upon the death of Empress Marianne.

On one hand, it was infuriating for him, knowing that most of the Empire would be carrying on with their lives while Marianne's was permanently ended, but on the other, the Empress would not have wanted a big hassle over her funeral, the thoughtful person she was.

She would be interred in the same cemetery in the grounds of the Imperial Palace that every other Royal figure in Britannia was, taking her rightful place in the annals of Britannian history, despite the fact that she had started out as a commoner. That was a detail that most forgot. As a commoner, she had almost single handedly installed the current Emperor, and embarked on a meteoric rise through the hierarchy of Britannian society at a clip that most families would never reach after ten generations.

In effect, the last few decades of Britannian history came as a result of her hand, and it would continued to be affected even after her death. She had sired two princesses, one that would likely never amount to anything, and another that was on the track to either immeasurable glory or disaster. Yes, even without considering her upbringing, she was an exceptional figure, one who had affected Britannian history forever, and on a more personal level, Jeremiah's own history.

He was who he was today because of her actions. If she had never allotted him the offer to become a member of her personal guard, he would likely be off fighting some war or enslaving another territory. But instead, here he was, a guard of the Royal Family, one who had failed in his duty. He imagined the disappointed looks that his mother and father would have given him, and allowed silent tears fall in mourning for both the late Empress as well as the hopes of his family.

He suddenly felt uncomfortable wearing his uniform, as if he didn't deserve to wear it. The grey top was soaked by the rain that was coming down in torrents, chilling him to the bone. However, if anything ,he was just numb to the cold, numb to the pain, numb to it all. His mind was occupied by nothing but the thoughts of his Empress, and his failure.

It was his fault she had died, and he silently wished that he could have died alongside her, in the performance of his duty, as that would be his greatest wish. Instead, he was the one left behind to pick up the pieces and to live in pain, while she moved on to the great beyond. He was envious, that she would be able to find peace in her death while he would never have such a privilege.

He was doomed to live with the knowledge of his failure and the emotion that came that with it. He would never find peace, and was only living until the day he would reach his eternal punishment for his failure to protect the most innocent person he had ever known.

Staring into a puddle, he saw the reflection of a pale man, with slight stubble and dark circles under his eyes. His cerulean hair was slick with rainwater, and sagged down over his face, allowing no one a view of his stoic expression underneath. Sleep had not come easy for the past few days, not when he was still trying to comprehend all that was happening in the world. His charge was dead, never to return, and that was still the only certainty so far.

The procession was led by the Knight of One, Bismarck Waldstein, who walked a few feet ahead of the casket, which was carried by four stoic guards in ceremonial military dress. It was draped in the Britannian flag, whose proud and vibrant colors seemed to be dulled by the occasion for which it was used. The casket had been closed, as her body was far too mangled from her assassination to properly display to the public. Despite Jeremiah's best attempts to preserve her beauty at the time of her assassination, the sight of her body was still deemed too horrific for the public to see.

The Emperor himself had not bothered to show up, instead choosing to make a speech rather than to see the actual internment. Nor did Princess Cornelia, Jeremiah noted interestedly, although he wasn't too surprised. After all, the only person who respected Empress Marianne more than himself was Princess Cornelia. No doubt she was blaming herself for the Empress' death, even if it wasn't her fault.

Jeremiah followed silently, a ways behind the main group, filled with various Britannian nobles, all veils down and heads hung low, completely silent, except for the occasional sniffle from Nunally, who was currently clutching Lelouch's arm tightly, still in shock at what had transpired in the last few days. They were both dressed in conservative black dresses that perfectly reflected the somber mood, with veils that covered their faces, although it was clear to anyone who paid them any heed that Nunally was crying underneath.

Jeremiah felt a tinge of sympathy for the young girl. To be fifteen and to see your mother gunned down before your eyes was traumatic, to say the least, if not life changing. And for that to happen to the most innocent and pure member of the Royal Family too. She was the white lily of the otherwise cutthroat Royal Family, and this experience was not anything she could have ever been prepared for.

For her part, Lelouch said nothing, her veil obscuring her face almost completely as she strode beside Jeremiah, who kept a protective eye on the two princesses. She was completely calm, and her face was almost like marble, permanently in an apathetic expression. Unlike her younger sister, who was emotional and vocal, Lelouch was silent and cold, an exemplary display politically. She would give no quarter to anyone, no matter what the circumstances, an admirable trait for anyone who had any inkling of the political world.

"_Jeremiah, Lelouch…protect." _

He had promised the Empress that he would do so, and he was going to carry out his duty. He could not, no, would not fail, as he had done before. Not when he had a purpose to his life. He was a machine, created only for the task of protecting, and if he failed in even that, then what could he do?

He was using Lelouch, as a sort of crutch, he knew, but he had no other choice. His life would mean nothing if he had no one to serve, no matter who it was. His father and mother had taught him as much. To protect the country that he loved so much, he had to serve, and serve he would.

To his left and right were the grounds of the cemetery, littered with the graves of various Britannian monarchs, all having died in the service of their country, as he dreamed to one day do. If he did, maybe his mother would smile once more, knowing that her son had died fighting for the most glorious cause in the entire world. And maybe, just maybe, his father would hold back his unforgiving fists, and instead, nod proudly at his funeral, a sense of fulfillment knowing that his son was a loyal and faithful servant of Britannia.

He hoped.

The procession stopped in their tracks as they reached the final resting place for Empress Marianne, a freshly dug hole in the middle of an empty plot of land. Jeremiah scowled a bit at the realization that she had been purposely separated from the other graves, a reflection of her commoner descent. However, as the embodiment of Britannian ideals, he supposed that there was some significance in the act. That despite being one of the greatest figures in recent history, she still respected the social hierarchy on which their empire was built and their Numbers system was enacted.

It was all political gold, and Jeremiah knew it. The Emperor was using her to embody the exemplary Britannian, and they were all too dumb to realize it. However, he couldn't help but feel that despite the fact that she was being used, Empress Marianne would have wanted this. No one followed orders with more conviction and was a more zealous adherent to the Britannian doctrine than her.

After all, as the Emperor said, "All men are not created equal; inequality is not wrong, equality is."

If anyone understood those words, it had to have been the Empress. Despite her rank, despite her popularity, she had never overstepped her boundaries. She knew where her loyalties and duties lay, and she followed them earnestly and ardently.

Jeremiah stood silently as he watched the four guards lower the casket into the ground, not being able to find the words to describe how he felt in this moment. It was almost as if a part of him had been buried along with Marianne. His grip on the flowers in his hands relaxed, until the stems of the flowers slipped through the space between his fingers and drifted to the ground, landing without a sound.

The priest present cleared his throat, gaining the attention of all those present. He was dressed in a conservative jacket with a collar that completely covered his neck, protecting it from the nipping wind as he began giving the eulogy that had obviously been prepared by some government officials, evident in the pro-Britannian propaganda scattered throughout.

Jeremiah kept a straight face throughout, resolved not to show any emotion despite the fact that he was weeping internally. As the priest finished, he nodded to the guards, who were now each armed with a shovel. The hole was quickly filled with dirt that was teetering on the edge of becoming mud, and closed off with a final pat of a shovel.

Saying their final goodbyes, most people walked away from the fresh grave, leaving Jeremiah alone with Lelouch and Nunally, who was no longer able to hold back her tears. She cried freely, hugging her older sister tightly while Lelouch stroked her hair softly, doing her best to comfort the younger girl.

Jeremiah looked down at his feet, ashamed while he listened to sobs rock Princess Nunally's body, face obscured by tangled brown hair that had obviously not been tended to in days. It was completely silent, save for the sound of raindrops pounding against Lelouch's black umbrella as she did her best to shield Nunally from the rain, Nunally's own umbrella discarded on the ground.

"Lelouch, why do people like Mother have to die?" Nunally asked, managing the words despite a torrent of tears. She took a deep breath, soothing the convulsions tearing through her body. She sighed deeply as Lelouch wrapped an arm around her body, slightly warming the cold that she felt more than any other sensation, other than a piercing emptiness that was only alleviated by the presence of her sister.

"Because that's how the world is." Lelouch replied softly, hugging Nunally closer to her body as she did so. She sadly stared down at her sister, alone and scared. She didn't deserve this, not Nunally.

"Then we should change the world." Nunally replied, leading Lelouch to nod in agreement at her surprisingly poignant suggestion, as vague and unrealistic as it was.

"We should." She replied softly, nodding in agreement.

Lelouch looked up at Jeremiah, who was the last remaining person at her mother's grave. He stared back with an ashamed look in his eyes, clearly affected by the state in which Nunally was. Standing across from the two sisters, a soaked uniform on his back and scattered flowers underfoot, Jeremiah looked out of place and incongruous.

"Jeremiah, given that my mother is dead, you are free to pursue whatever career you want, be it in the military or not." Lelouch said, "You don't have to feel obligated to stay here."

At those words, Jeremiah's haze was instantly broken and he shook his head vigorously, realizing that Lelouch was effectively kicking him to the curb. However, he could not let that happen. He had orders, and he would follow them to his dying days. Empress Marianne had told him to protect her daughters, and protect he would.

In essence, it was also his chance for redemption. If he could protect them and fulfill his duty to the late Empress, then maybe, just maybe, his conscience would be soothed by the comfort in knowing that he wasn't a failure in all he did. That he had succeeded in something that could defend his pride, honor, and duty as a knight.

"But my only wish is to serve you, Your Highness. I want to change the world with you, any way it takes." Jeremiah replied, dropping to his knees, echoing Princess Nunally's earlier sentiments. He knew that it wasn't exactly the most realistic goal, but in his life, devoid of purpose but to serve, he found comfort in sharing the same goal as his charge.

"Please, I beg of you. I know of nothing else, have no purpose, besides what Empress Marianne told me. Her final orders were to protect you, and I intend to follow her last words, no matter what." Jeremiah continued from his submissive position. His head was hung low, refusing to even glance upon Lelouch, as he suddenly realized exactly how desperate he sounded in that moment. However, it was the truth that escaped his lips. He really did not have much desire besides to perform his duty.

"Jeremiah, stand up." Lelouch ordered, causing Jeremiah to respond eagerly. He rose up to his full height, finding that he stood almost a full head taller than the shorter Princess. However, in terms of the sheer force of personality, he was a dwarf to the giant that was Lelouch. In that moment, she just seemed to command and demand the upmost respect, in a way that was eerily similar to her mother.

"If you so wish to, I will allow you to serve me in place of my mother." She relented, causing Jeremiah to nod, relieved at Lelouch's words.

"Very well. I will take my place as your personal bodyguard, Your Highness." Jeremiah bowed deeply.

"Please, refer to me by my name." Lelouch replied. Completely compliant, Jeremiah acknowledged the orders with absolute veneration.

"Princess Lelouch, what will you do now?" Jeremiah asked the raven haired teen. He was now ready to do whatever she commanded without question, eager to prove his worth to her.

"I want answers, and I want them now, but we both know that is not a viable option. All I can do is wait, I suppose. This officially makes me a high profile figure now, and people will be watching me more and more. I cannot afford to show any signs of weakness to the public or to the rest of my family." Lelouch replied, clearly having thought about the topic at hand many times prior to their conversation.

"Whatever you choose to do, I will follow in stride." Jeremiah stated definitively.

Lelouch's eyes narrowed and she folded her arms across her chest.

"What exactly do you wish to gain from this? Fame? Power? Wealth?" She asked, completely suspicious of Jeremiah's willingness to serve her. At least in her eyes, it seemed completely obvious that he had an ulterior motive to enter her servitude, but what that was, she had no idea. There was no way that he could be acting purely on her mother's orders, could he?

"Nothing. All I want is to serve you, Your Highness." Jeremiah replied, understanding of her suspicion. After all, it wasn't every day that men like himself willingly pledged their service to someone without good cause, although he supposed that following the orders of Empress Marianne was a good enough cause for him.

"That's it?" Lelouch asked with a raised eyebrow, still not convinced by Jeremiah's words.

"Well, that's not all I have to say, but…" Jeremiah trailed off, leading Lelouch to nod in understanding.

"Very well. I will not pry any further. When you are ready to tell me, you will tell me." She assured, surprising Jeremiah, although he wasn't complaining. If she was willing to trust him, then that was good enough for him. He wanted to tell her the truth, but at the same time, he did not want the truth to hang over them and make her feel as if he was only protecting her out of some twisted sense of satisfaction that came from following orders.

"Sorry, Your Highness, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to speak about my motivation yet." Jeremiah apologized.

"It's fine, Jeremiah. We all have our secrets." Lelouch said in response, and for a second, Jeremiah swore he saw a small smile flash across her face before she nodded to him and led Nunally away, whispering soothing words into her younger sister's ears.

As she disappeared out of sight, Jeremiah looked up to the heavens as water streamed down his face, following the sharp contours of his strong facial features. Just a few moments ago, it was heavy and imposing, striking his face with viciousness that only amplified his sense of shame and weakness. However, now the rain felt…different.

Instead of dragging him down, if anything, it seemed to reenergize him , and instead of being oppressive, it was soothing and relieving, almost as if it were washing away his pain and fear. It truly felt as if he had found a new start in life, and he was ready to see what his new life would have in store for him. That is, if he could relieve one remaining weight that seemed to be pinning him down.

* * *

"Jeremiah."

"Father." Jeremiah replied coldly, standing toe to toe with Lord Gottwald in their doorway. They were of equal height, allowing them to stare each other in the eye for a moment before Jeremiah averted his gaze.

"We haven't heard from you since…" Lord Gottwald trailed off, finding it uncomfortable to mention the death of Empress Marianne.

"Yes, I suppose I have been negligent in corresponding with you." Jeremiah nodded, knowing just the same.

"Why are you back here? Don't tell me you were discharged." Lord Gottwald asked, as if it were already a foregone conclusion.

"Not at all. I have come here to tell you that I will be sworn in as Princess Lelouch's Knight of Honor at the end of the week, after all of the uproar over… the event dies down." Jeremiah replied, treading over the dreaded words with cool efficiency.

"That's unexpected." Lord Gottwald replied, completely shocked by the news.

"However, I need to do one thing before I go through with the knighting ceremony. May I speak with Mother?" Jeremiah asked, not intending to take no as an answer.

Nodding, Lord Gottwald stepped aside, allowing Jeremiah entrance.

"She's in her room. I haven't seen her all morning." He informed Jeremiah in a confused tone, almost causing him to roll his eyes in disbelief. It seemed that his father had absolutely no idea that the reason his mother was afraid to leave her room was him, but that was besides the point.

He strode through the foyer, boots clacking as he followed a series of familiar hallways that he knew led to his bastion, his mother's room. It had been the one place that he felt truly safe throughout his childhood, and to this day, little had changed.

Gently, he creaked the door open, and noticed that a pair of eyes immediately snapped towards him, analyzing his figure to determine whether he was friend or foe.

"Jeremiah!" His mother cried out, sitting up in her bed, wincing slightly as she did so, Jeremiah seeing through her poor attempt at hiding the pain she was experiencing.

"Mother, don't push yourself too hard." Jeremiah admonished, closing the door behind him and dashing over to the side of the bed to ease his mother backwards into her pillow.

"But I haven't seen you in months, and you haven't called for weeks. I was worried sick about you." She retorted, causing Jeremiah to hang his head in shame.

"I know…I should have called sooner. I'm sorry." He whispered, leading her to shake her head.

"Don't worry about it. My handsome son has returned to visit me. How could I want anything else?" Lady Gottwald asked rhetorically.

"Now then," She continued, "Something's bothering you. What is wrong?"

Jeremiah quickly put up his hands in defense, "No, nothing's wrong. In fact, it's the opposite. I'm going to be appointed the Knight of Honor for Princess Lelouch."

At this, Lady Gottwald's lips curled upwards in a huge grin that made Jeremiah feel immensely proud for evoking. He couldn't stop the urge to smile as well, glad that some life had returned to his mother's eyes.

"Jeremiah, that's great! I'm so proud of you!" She cried out, glee evident in her face before a searing pain tore through her neck and caused her to suddenly choke at the sensation of having blocking her air passageway. Her smile contorted into an expression of pain, and Jeremiah immediately steadied her by the shoulders, holding her in place until the sensation subsided.

"Mother, did he do it again?" Jeremiah asked, to which Lady Gottwald nodded.

"Yes, but don't worry about it. I just need to rest, and I'll be fine." She replied weakly, the sudden outburst exhausting her.

"I'm worried for you. What if he goes too far one day, and you won't just be able to rest it off?" Jeremiah cried out, worry permeating every word.

"I made a vow that I would be married to your father, for better and worse, through sickness and health. I can't just abandon my duties now. You understand. If you are going to be a knight, you can never go back on your pledge to protect the Princess." She replied.

"I…I…" He began, noticing exactly how severe his mother's condition was. No amount of makeup could truly cover the bruises that were formed around her throat, likely the victim of one of his father's large hands. Saying anything to aggravate the injury would be the wrong move in this situation.

"I understand." He said carefully, breathing out a sigh of relief as his mother nodded without incident.

"Jeremiah, I do want to talk more, but I really need to rest." Lady Gottwald pleaded, exhaustion evident in her weakening voice.

"Of course. Rest as much as you need to. I'll be back soon, and I'll see you again." Jeremiah reassured, causing Lady Gottwald to smile and to lay her head back, closing her eyes and allowing sleep to come over her.

Her breathing slowed and she seemed content, a small smile coming over her face.

"My son…" She breathed out, already asleep, and Jeremiah instantly felt a pang of guilt.

He had followed orders all of his life, and what had it led to so far? The death of Empress Marianne, and the continued abuse of his mother. If there was ever a moment in which he felt his confidence in his ideals shaken, it was now, watching his fragile mother attempt to put on a strong front for him while she was silently falling apart at the seams.

However, despite having his faith challenged, Jeremiah couldn't help but to feel that by following Lelouch, everything would be okay, somehow. There was just something about her that made her stand apart from everyone else he had ever met. When she had said that they would change the world, he couldn't help but to believe her words completely. For some odd reason, she inspired supreme confidence within him, and if there was anything he was in dire need of, it was a boost to his confidence.

It was just so hard sometimes, watching helplessly as his mother was abused and tortured by the monster he called his father. He desperately wanted to do something to help, and he just got the feeling that Lelouch was the only one who had any chance of doing so.

"Jeremiah…" She whispered softly, a little smile on her face.

Jeremiah nodded, resolve hardened. He just wanted to do something. He didn't want to watch anymore. He wanted to act, and act he would. Until the day that his mother was free, and proud of her son, he would follow Lelouch on her path, wherever it took her.

He would have to, he thought soberly before he lay his head down on his mother's chest, feeling it heave up and down softly in the rhythmic beat of her heart. He laced his fingers through her soft sheets, imagining all of the times that she had silently wept into them, or pulled them over her exposed skin in an attempt to hide the rapidly forming bruises underneath.

He closed his eyes, breathing in the stale odor of dried blood, and cried.

* * *

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, as dark as it got sometimes. No, I'm not sadistic, but I feel like the kind of fanatical loyalty Jeremiah has in canon has to be attributed to something. In this case, it is his belief that following Lelouch will somehow lead him and his mother to salvation, in his twisted reality. Next chapter, the action and meat of the story will start up, with Lelouch's initial moves in her campaign against her siblings, so I hope you all continue to read on. **

**In a burgeoning story like this, I could really use all of the help I can get, so please, leave any and all thoughts, either in the form of a review or a PM. Thank you for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**This is a late update, I suppose, since it's almost officially Saturday, but I've had a rough week, and I haven't had time to really write, so this was the fastest I could get it out to you guys. Please enjoy the continuation of Orange.**

* * *

Chapter 3

Jeremiah pulled at the collar of his new uniform as he shifted nervously in his seat, made out of expensive Britannian leather that padded all of the seats inside of the jet black Rolls Royce Phantom they were currently riding in.

He knew the specs of the car, having inspected it many times before many a trip taken by Empress Marianne. It was outfitted with tinted and bulletproof windows, and the body was constructed was slightly better materials than average in an attempt to provide more security to any Royal Figure riding inside. In addition, the engine had been vastly overhauled to provide more horsepower, so that the car would have no problem with speed whenever it needed to get the Empress out of a dangerous situation.

Again, he fumbled with one of the buttons of his top, still feeling uncomfortable in the expensive material. It was modeled after the uniforms of the Knights of the Round, mirroring the combination of a jacket and undershirt, but with a distinct difference in that the colors were reversed, with his jacket completely black, contrasting with his crisp white undershirt. He wore white gloves underneath thin silver gauntlets and his feet were covered by a pair of silver greaves that offered more protection than the normal uniform of a Knight of Rounds.

It relieved him to have been given this new uniform, as his old one was full of nothing but painful memories, and he wanted nothing more than to seal it away in his closet and to never lay eyes upon it ever again, lest he wanted to be reminded of his failures. Besides, his new outfit offered superior protection, having been made with a prototypical Kevlar-like material that had relatively strong stopping power while remaining light, a step up from the gray uniform he had owned as a guard of the Aries Villa, which was more ceremonial than practical.

Although now, he doubted that he could really wear such a thing anymore anyways. Even if he had been able to wash off the blood, which would come off eventually, after a few cycles, there never be any way for him to find the strength to wear it again. Not when the only thing the gray material reminded him of was failure, not when there were still stains that would never really come out, no matter how hard he scrubbed. He would know where the blood was sprayed out, down to the drop.

He had seen the photo taken in the police report, and the image had been burned into his mind instantly. He had been standing alone over the body of the dead Empress, a shocked look in his eyes, red splattered out on his face and uniform, and hands twitching in a catatonic state. When he saw it once, he knew instantly that he would never be able to forget, and so far, he had been right.

At his side lay a large sword sheathed in an expensive and lavishly decorated leather sheath that depicted the crest of the lion that also adorned the Britannian flag, symbolizing the fact that the sword was the possession of a royal figure.

From what he knew, the specific blade by his side had been passed down for generations by the Royal Family, and was given to the Empress as a sort of reward for her part in the Emblem of Blood incident, in which she had installed Emperor Charles. And now, in turn, Princess Lelouch, as the one who inherited it, was gifting it to him as a reward for future services not yet rendered. He almost felt that it gave him some sort of connection to the Empress, and that, if anything, it only strengthened his resolve to follow in her footsteps.

It was clear, from the number of heirs that Emperor Charles had sired, that there was going to be bloodshed over the throne, whether it took place in covert or operations, or in all out war. And now, Lelouch was effectively conveying her plans and expectations for him with this sword. She knew all too well the history of this sword as well, so there was no coincidence that it had now come into his possession.

He nodded slightly. He would not let her down. He would do anything within his power to fight for her, and bring her the glory that she so craved. She was going to become Empress, or he would die attempting to make that dream a reality. That would be the only way that he could ever hope to atone for his mistakes and to make his mother proud.

He looked over to his left, where Lelouch was sitting, her head buried in a newspaper while across from them, Nunally was entertaining herself by flipping through a book. The interior of the car was completely still, attributed to the fact that they were driving over freshly paved roads in the middle of the Britannian Capital of Pendragon, and the only sounds punctuating the silence were the occasional scrunch of paper as one of the princesses leafed through a page.

For his part, Jeremiah remained completely silent as well, content to just stare out of the window while his thoughts swirled around in his head, now turning away from Lelouch herself, but to his family. He was scared for his mother, and his last visit had done little to alleviate his fear that his father was getting increasingly abusive.

"Jeremiah, are you ready for the ceremony?" Lelouch vocalized suddenly, snapping Jeremiah out of his thoughts. He quickly swiveled his head to face Lelouch and quickly nodded.

"Of course, Princess. I am ready to defend your life at the risk of losing mine, if necessary." Jeremiah replied with conviction, no doubt in his mind that he was following the right path. He had decided upon it in his visit to his home. He had to follow Lelouch, no matter where that path took him, if he ever wanted to save his mother. Her will was almost completely broken by now, and he was scared that she was slowly becoming more and more accepting of death as a welcome alternative to the hell that she was living through.

"Thank you for protecting my sister, Sir Gottwald." Nunally chimed in from her seat, some life returned to her voice after a period of time during which she was nothing more than a shell of her former self. Her eyes were still largely emotionless, only occasionally showing the flicker of warmth and life, much like the state of his mother's dull orange irises. She was still nowhere near the same person she was before the death of Empress Marianne, but she was making progress.

"It's my duty, Your Highness." Jeremiah replied, understanding Nunally's appreciation. She had just lost her mother, and had immediately latched onto Lelouch for support. If she had somehow lost Lelouch as well, he could only imagine what the result would be.

The rest of the trip was silent after that, with no one having any words to say, not that Jeremiah minded. With so much on his mind, he could really use the silence to think.

* * *

Jeremiah gasped as he saw the expansive set up of cameras, lighting equipment, microphones, and other filming equipment as he stepped inside the Imperial Palace, where his knighting ceremony was going to be filmed and broadcast live for the Britannian Empire. In classic fashion, the government was going to suck every bit of political benefit out of the situation.

There were at least a dozen cameras set up in various angles all over the large ballroom in which the ceremony was to take place, and at least half the room was taken up purely by the mess of wires and microphones that the filming crew had set up beforehand in preparation for the event. Said filming crew was now rushing around, checking equipment and performing test as Jeremiah looked around.

"Good to see you, Your Highness. We've prepared a dressing room for you." A woman in a business suit paired with a conservative skirt informed Lelouch as she strode inside after Jeremiah. The woman looked to be a producer of some sort, based on her appearance and the way that the crew members cleared the way for her.

"Of course." She replied, grasping Nunally's hand protectively as she did so.

"But I need to take Nunally along with me." Lelouch informed the woman, who nodded and led them away, leaving Jeremiah by himself.

He looked around, fascinated by the equipment, and absentmindedly placed a hand upon a camera, and immediately heard shouting.

"Get your hands off of that camera!" A large man with brown hair that was partly pulled back into a ponytail and partly left free as a wild fringe yelled at Jeremiah, who recoiled in surprise at the sudden outburst.

"Sorry." Jeremiah said awkwardly as the man leaned over and carefully readjusted the lens of said camera, before turning to face him, a flustered look on the man's face. However, as he looked over Jeremiah, his expression softened gradually, until the man was wearing a Cheshire smile that greatly unnerved Jeremiah with its obvious facetiousness.

"Oh, so you're Gottwald, the one being knighted, aren't you? Interesting. You look like the type to lead, not follow orders." The man remarked as he looked over Jeremiah, who thought about the man's remark for a moment, but decided against continued thought on the topic.

"That's right." Jeremiah replied, nodding.

"Diethard Ried, producer." The man introduced, extending his hand to shake, which Jeremiah gladly did.

"Jeremiah Gottwald, although you probably already knew that." He replied, to which the man nodded.

"Of course I do." He said, before a glint came over his eyes.

"Say, you wouldn't happen to have time for a private interview, would you?" He asked suddenly.

Jeremiah scratched the back of his neck, "Um…"

"We're starting in five! The Princess is ready!" A crew member yelled out.

"Darn, I guess I'll have to put it on hold. We'll meet again, I'm sure of it." Diethard stated, before he patted Jeremiah on the back.

"Now then, we have a show to put on."

* * *

Jeremiah felt exposed and vulnerable as he knew the camera was rolling behind his back, but he swallowed deeply and pressed on. He walked forward on a red carpet, exuding a sense of confidence as he did so, trying his best not to be fazed, even as he realized that he was surrounded on both sides by a large gathering of Britannian nobles that was handpicked to be included in the broadcast.

Instead, he focused his attention directly forward, where Lelouch was seated in the throne, the Britannian flag displayed proudly behind her as she stared forward at him. As he did so, he resisted the urge to blurt something out as he saw her, dressed in a regal white dress with gold trim running throughout, just radiating poise and beauty.

Behind him, trumpets blared their music while a small choir of men sang the Britannian national anthem, their voices rising in a powerful unified sound that perfectly embodied the power and strength that Jeremiah had always associated Britannia with. If this had been any other time, he would have felt motivated to sing along, just as his mother had any time she had heard an Imperial broadcast, but the fact that he was on television made him rethink his plan.

Jeremiah took another deep breath and climbed the stairs, falling to one knee as he directly approached her, remembering to keep his head pointed towards the ground while Lelouch sat over him, staring down at his submissive form.

"Jeremiah Gottwald. Do you wish to accept the responsibilities of knighthood, and fight as a champion of Britannia?" Lelouch asked, standing up from her seat and adding the intimidating presence she possessed.

Jeremiah smiled as he heard the words he had waited to hear all of his life. To be a knight in the service of Britannia was his greatest dream, and it was coming true before his eyes. His worries, for the time being, were completely forgotten. What mattered now was that he was finally getting his chance to make a difference, for him, his mother, and the world, and he was going to savor this moment.

"Yes, Your Highness." He replied eagerly, hearing his booming voice echo through the room.

"Do you pledge to be sword and shield to this empire, devoted to its greater good?" She continued.

"Yes, You Highness." He repeated, before he reached over to the leather sheath on his left hip and tightly grasped the handle of the sword stored inside. He quickly slid it out of its sheath until only the tip of the blade was contained by the leather, and gripped it by the blade, leaving the handle open.

Lelouch stepped forward and accepted the blade by its handle, raising it up before her face as Jeremiah bowed lower. She brought the blade down on each of his shoulders, lightly tapping each one before she proclaimed, "I, Lelouch vi Britannia, dub thee Sir Jeremiah Gottwald. May your courage and devotion become a shining example to the people of the Empire."

As she finished speaking, she held out the blade, allowing Jeremiah to graciously accept it once more and return it to its sheath.

"Now rise." She whispered to him, and he complied, standing to his full height and turning to face the crowd of assembled nobles, who stared at him with varying degrees of interest. A second of silence elapsed before the group descended into heavy applause that drowned out all of Jeremiah's thoughts. All that could come to his mind was the registration that he was now a Knight of Honor, and that the Britannian public actually approved of him.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that he should look in the crowd for a glimpse of his father and mother, hoping that they would be there to share in the moment with him. However, as his eyes surveyed the entirety of the crowd, he could not spot them.

It was a long shot, he knew, but still, he had hoped that they would have been able to come and watch their son become the knight they had always wanted him to be. At the revelation that he was alone, his heart sunk, and he felt a pronounced emptiness, as if the accomplishment had no meaning without the ones who had inspired his ambition in the first place.

"They're all applauding you." Lelouch stated form behind him, and Jeremiah found that he was correcting himself.

He wasn't alone. There was someone else sharing in his accomplishment in this moment, and it alleviated some of the emptiness he was currently feeling. Lelouch was beside him in this moment, and he would be beside her in the future, to share in her accomplishments as well because this was the path he chose for himself. He swore his life to the servitude of Princess Lelouch vi Britannia, and that was what was important in this moment.

He had purpose once again, and he was going to follow her until his death. He had found something tangible to hang onto, and he wasn't going to let it go, no matter where she led him.

He almost chuckled at the thought. He was like a lost puppy who was clinging onto anything that he could find as a substitute for the emptiness in his life. Could it be true that the only desire in his life was to serve? As that Diethard said, he looked more the type to lead than to follow. Was he right? Was he really destined to lead?

The self doubt began to swirl all around him as he internally debated, before he turned his head to look at Lelouch. For some reason, as he did, all of his self doubt faded away as she smiled that elegant and graceful, yet powerful and threatening smile of hers that could be construed as either the product of evil machinations or genuine joy.

He could not doubt himself as he stared at her face, so sure of itself and unfazed by the numerous cameras capturing her every expression and gesture. She was the one he was destined to follow, he was sure of it. He didn't understand why, but then again, could anyone really understand fate? It worked in mysterious ways, and it seemed that fate had intervened in his case, leading him to her servitude.

She was the key to it all. He didn't know how or why he thought it, but there was no questioning it. She was going to be the key to everything. The key to fulfilling his dreams of serving the Empire he loved so much, the key to saving the mother he loved so much, and the key to redeeming the Empress he had loved so much.

"Come Jeremiah, smile a bit. You don't want to give the media the wrong impression." Lelouch added softly, and Jeremiah nodded, his lips involuntarily turning upwards in a smile as he found himself actually enjoying the moment with Lelouch by his side.

For once, he felt important, like he had the power to change things. This was completely unlike anything he had ever felt before. During his childhood, he had been helpless to stop his father, and even now, he could do nothing but to idly stand by while his father continued to slowly break his mother, one beating at a time. With the Empress, he had been powerless to stop her death, only reaching her before it was far too late to do anything to save her.

But now, it felt like, just by following Lelouch, he could somehow make a difference. It was empowering, and it felt incredible to know that he was no longer going to just be a bystander. For better or for worse, he now had the power to change Britannian history.

* * *

"Princess Lelouch, I am now officially your Knight. What will you have me do first?" Jeremiah asked as the last of the crowd dispersed, the filming having ended long ago in reality. The crew had already packed up and was long gone by now, with only a few nobles who wanted to gain favor with Lelouch remaining. As even they filed out, Jeremiah suddenly found himself almost completely alone with Lelouch and Nunally for a precious moment.

"For now, I don't really have much use for you. I doubt that anyone will attempt anything on a night with so much added security for this ceremony, so I don't see any need for you to waste time guarding me. Tomorrow, we have a planned visit to a local military base, so do whatever you want before we leave." Lelouch informed Jeremiah, who nodded in understanding.

"Very well, I want to be by your side until you reach the Aeries Villa then." Jeremiah responded. At his answer, Lelouch raised an eyebrow in interest.

"You really are an interesting man, aren't you, Sir Gottwald?" Lelouch asked, her previous reservations about the blue haired man surfacing once more.

"You know, any normal person would just go off and celebrate, but not you. I wonder why?" Lelouch asked, and it was instantly clear to Jeremiah that Lelouch was not yet willing to fully trust him.

"It's my duty." Jeremiah replied plainly, realizing how stupid he sounded.

"And do you think, that by performing your duty, that you will avenge my mother's death in some way? Is that the motivation which you did not want to talk about previously?" Lelouch asked as well, taking control of the conversation and steering it in whatever direction she wanted, a small hint of her skills as an orator.

"That is a part of it, yes." Jeremiah admitted, wanting Lelouch to think him honest, if nothing else.

"Very well. I take it I can trust you then." Lelouch said.

He blinked once, then twice as he took in her words. She had accepted his answer without any sort of the disappointment or disgust he had expected. If anything, she seemed…glad about his motivation, in a strange way.

"After all, if that is your motivation, I trust that you will not betray me." She added with a small smile that both reassured and frightened Jeremiah at the same time with its sweetness.

"Of course not." Jeremiah replied defensively, angry that his devotion had been questioned, but understanding of Lelouch's reasoning.

"Well then, I put my life in your hands, Sir Gottwald." Lelouch stated seriously, making it clear that she wasn't lying when she said that she trusted him earlier.

Jeremiah suddenly found himself smiling as he heard those words. It felt empowering to know that he was trusted, and relied upon by someone. To know that he wasn't entirely useless and an utter failure, it was euphoric.

For his entire life, he had sat idly by while his mother was abused, unable to lift a finger in response to his father. She had never been able to, and likely would never rely on him. If anything, he relied on her. Whenever things had gotten tough at the Institute, he had always come back to something she had once said, or imagined her smiling face, the one he hadn't seen in years, and it gave him the strength to forge on.

Now, he was the one being relied on, and it made him feel stronger than ever before, with both a clear purpose ahead of him, and a feeling of responsibility being thrust upon him.

It was a wonderful feeling, one he wasn't planning on forgetting anytime soon.

With a smile, he began leading the way for Lelouch, intending to keep her within his sights the entire time when he suddenly noticed a feminine figure with green hair in the doorway that disappeared as suddenly as it appeared. His eyes widened in surprise and confusion at the odd attire that the woman had been dressed in, which was a medieval style robe that completely obscured her figure, save for her face, which bore burning yellow eyes that had already been seared into his mind with their unusual hue and intensity.

Registering that the person could possibly be an assassin of some sort, Jeremiah turned to Lelouch, his smile gone.

"Princess, get to the car through another exit and get out of here. I suspect that there is an assassin of some sort here." Jeremiah informed Lelouch, who did as she was told, ushering Nunally along in front of her.

With the speed of a driven and focused individual, Jeremiah tore off in pursuit of the figure, finding that his new uniform allowed for a surprising range of motion, a detail that he noted appreciatively as he sprinted out of the exit. His eyes darted around the palace grounds, which were virtually a maze of hedges and fountains that covered miles of grounds in the middle of a large assortment of buildings.

Amongst the green of various hedges, he searched for a lighter hue, spotting it almost immediately just before it disappeared behind some shrubbery. Not pausing for even a moment, Jeremiah willed his legs forward, his boots crushing some leaves underfoot as he dashed forward, intent on catching the would-be assassin.

He rapidly approached the leafy structure, only to find that it led into one of the many garden mazes on the property. Cursing his luck, Jeremiah slowed down, moving more cautiously amongst the more dangerous surroundings, ready for the woman to pop out at any time from one of the hedges that she was possibly hiding in.

He took deliberate, planned steps forward as he eased through the maze, eyes constantly wandering around as he looked for any sort of movements that would give away her location, but being severely disappointed by the lack of activity around him.

As he checked his progress by observing the distance he was from the exit of the maze, he realized that he would soon be at the center, and possibly, facing the mysterious figure. With shaky hands, he unsheathed the sword attached to his hip and whirled it around in his hands a few times, getting a feel for the metal before his expression hardened and his hands stopped, ready to protect his charge. He would not let any sort of fear dissuade him from protecting the Princess, that was for sure.

He slowly turned the corner of one of the green walls, and instantly, put the sword up, raised level across his shoulders and right in front of his face, only to find himself facing an unarmed woman. Her eyes, the same bored yellow irises that he had observed earlier, stared straight at him, allowing him a perfect view of her face. She was beautiful, with soft features that were framed by torrents of beautiful lime hair that reached down to the small of her back. She was rather thin, with the bulky robes that she wore adding to her figure, but not enough to hide her true size underneath, yet had a resilient quality about her, as if she were a jaded old matron, and not the beautiful young woman standing before him.

She smiled a little as he lowered his sword, confused by the sight in front of him, which was now clearly not an assassin, as he had previously thought. As he did so, he could see her wave at him, and spoke for the first time.

"Hello, Jeremiah."

* * *

**Well, you guys probably know who that is, but I won't spoil anything for anyone who hasn't connected the dots yet. For those of you who have figured it out, yes, I am planning to give Jeremiah some sort of Geass, though it will be radically different from Lelouch's, as she manifests the kind of power that would be valuable to a king, while Jeremiah is going to have some sort of Geass that is related to his more subservient position and personality. I don't have it all figured out yet, but I am definitely going to find one that suits his personality and goals like Lelouch's does for her.**

**However, if you guys have any specific ideas for the abilities of his Geass, be sure to leave it in a review or PM me. I really would appreciate any and all thoughts I can get, as they really do improve and add to my writing. Thanks for reading so far! **


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